Viking Fire (13 page)

“I will wait with her tonight,” Kaireen said dragging a stool beside the bed.

Her mother and the midwife nodded and then left.

Kaireen dug through her sister’s old trunk and removed a fresh leine. Then she eased off Shay’s sweaty leine.

Using the water from the pitcher and a rag, she cleaned her sister, and then dried her. Then she dressed her sister in the clean leine.

She chatted about her punishment and the smell of the dyes. But her sister did not answer her. With the bed linens changed, Shay lay upon the bed.

“Come the morn, you will have a proper bath. The warm water will sooth you.”

Unsure about what else to do, Kaireen blew out the candles, and then climbed into bed beside her sister. Waited until she heard her sister breathing before she let sleep take her too.

• • •

Sunlight crept through the window. Kaireen stirred, disoriented that she was not in her room.

Then she remembered. “Shay?”

Her sister did not answer her. An eerie silence waited. She hopped from bed and then rushed into the hallway. Perhaps her sister bathed this morning. But her heart knew otherwise.

A servant scrambled down the hallway.

“Have you seen my sister?”

“No, miss.”

Kaireen rushed to her parent’s chambers. Outside their door, she pounded on the wood.

Her mother swung open the door.

“Have you seen Shay?” she asked before her mother spoke.

Moments later, everyone searched the keep for her.

But she could not be found.

Kaireen hitched up her skirts and raced to the stables. The stable boy confirmed her fears, that two horses were taken in the early morning. She knew Shay had taken one of the horses, but who had taken the second? She could not dwell on questions, so instead saddled her horse, and then mounted. Outside, she galloped to the coast. And she prayed she was not too late. She should have stayed awake all night. Let someone else watch her sister after the morning meal.

After hours of riding, she passed the hill before her own keep.

One of the missing horses grazed ahead. Instead of stopping to catch the beast, she rode on.

At the edge of her keep, the other horse skirted away at her approach. She saw a figure hunched at the edge of the cliffs. After her horse halted, she jumped off. Her bare feet flew across the grass.

Now she realized she did not put her slippers on this morning. As she was breaths from the figure, she realized it was Bram. His wool cloak covered his frame.

She heard his remorseful voice mixed with the waves crashing against the sea. Her heart leapt in her throat. He cradled Shay in his arms.

Kaireen forced one foot in front of the other as she stalked around him.

As his hand brushed Shay’s hair, he stared at the waves. “Did not reach her in time.”

At his words, Kaireen wanted to shout for him to stop. She could hear no more.

“The babe slipped from me as I snatched her back.” His shoulders shook and Kaireen heard the dismay in his voice. “I did not know about the babe…knew not she had him with her.”

“The babe was already dead.” She saw his shoulders relax and she moved beside him. Her heart jerked at his compassion and the risk of his own life to save another once again. But why would this affect her so? He’d done as much at Shay’s fire. Maybe it was because his choice to do so, and he did it without expecting a reward save their marriage.

She heard Shay groan. “She lives?”

“Aye. But only on the outside.”

Her sister stared back at her with hollow eyes. “Douglas calls me to him.”

“No, Douglas—” What could she say? Her sister would not listen. It was only a matter of time before her sister wasted away or succeeded in her breaking her body upon the rocks.

“Let us get her back to your father’s keep.” Bram stood. As he carried her sister, she rounded up the other horses. They tied Shay’s mount to his. But let Shay ride alone with Bram’s horse leading hers. Mounted, they rode back to her parent’s keep.

“Perhaps after a few days, she will be better,” he said as Kaireen nudged her horse closer to his.

It was a miracle he was able to hold onto her sister. She was more like Kaireen than anyone else. And she knew, if she had her heart broken twice, no one would have been able to snatch her from death as Bram had done. “Did you chase after her here?”

“I was already here at your keep.”

“How? Why?”

“’Tis my wedding present to you.” He winked at her.

“No need, we will not have a wedding as I have told you ’afore.” When would the daft man listen?

He did not answer her, but let their horses guide them back.

• • •

Inside Shay’s room, her sister squatted in a corner, refusing comfort or food.

Her blond hair was matted, and the smell of the birthing from last night clung to her.

“Shay, please.” Kaireen reached for her. “Megan worries about you. She’s too young to understand.”

But her sister did not answer her. Only sang a baby’s lullaby.

“Let us bathe.” She held out her hand and tried to smile. “Who will watch your daughter if you go?”

Her sister’s song ended in mid-sentence. “Father and Mother.” She waved her hand as if shooing a fly. “Or you and your husband.”

“I am not married,” Kaireen huffed.

The hint of a smile crossed Shay’s features for a second, and then disappeared.

What else could she say? Her mother and father cared for Megan. The child, almost three years old, did not understand why her mother did not come to the morning nor evening meals.

Already, the sun dipped to the west. Bram had been no use since they returned. After caring for his horse, he had wondered around outside.

“At least eat something,” Kaireen begged.

Her sister resumed her rocking.

Then a knock sounded on the door as though whoever it was held good news instead of the tragedy her sister bore.

Elva entered with a smile. “Out of bed with you, lass. Time for bathing before the meal.”

“My Douglas and son call to me,” she moaned.

“Do not speak nonsense,” Elva chided her. “No excuse got you out of a bath when you were Megan’s age, and it will not now.”

“She has suffered—” Kaireen objected.

“Only prolonged by herself.” Her handmaid looked at her so intently that Kaireen took a step back. “Now, rise or I will lop off your hair.”

Her sister did not respond.

“You want to be bald when you meet your new husband?”

What was Elva speaking of? Already her sister had lost her husband in death, she did not need another.

“Douglas was my love. I will have no other.”

“Aye, but you have been blessed.”

“Blessed?” Kaireen screeched. How could her handmaid be so crude?

“If you are finished, or do you want more trouble from me.” Her handmaid squeezed her hand as though telling Kaireen to keep her mouth closed. “Then I will turn a switch on you myself as your mother so often threatens to do, but never has.”

Kaireen frowned, but nodded. What would her ramblings hurt?

“But I cannot marry. Douglas was my only love.”

“You are blessed, because great love will come twice in your life.”

Shay glared at her.

“’Tis truth I speak. Did I steer you wrong about Douglas?” Elva waited a moment, and then rocked back on her heels. “Now, then, do you want the first memory of you for your new husband to be like this?”

“I lost my love.” She shook her head. “I will not marry again.”

Elva yanked Shay by her hair. Kaireen screamed and pulled her handmaid’s arms. “Aye, Douglas was your night.”

At her words, Shay’s arms fell to her sides.

“But this one will be your day.” She released Shay and held out her hand.

Her sister took it. They strolled down the corridor, to the bathing room.

Kaireen followed them. She would not let her sister drown herself in the bath.

“Where is he?” Shay whispered as if this false husband would leap from the stone walls.

“He comes from across the sea.”

“I get seasick.”

Elva patted her hand as they walked. “A giant of a man. You will tame his tongue to our language, and he will tame your stomach for the sea.”

“But what about my son? Why did he have to die?”

Not looking where she stepped, Kaireen tripped. What would her handmaid say now?

“Was not his time to come yet.”

Tears welled in Shay’s eyes, and Kaireen feared the singing again.

“Yet, the wheel turns right again for you. Your son will return, but he will bring four brothers with him.”

Kaireen shook her head. It was not right for her handmaid to fill her sister’s head with fancies that would not come.

“Each will be born on the sea. One during a storm.”

Inside, Shay undressed. Then she climbed into a steaming tub. “Join me?” she said to Kaireen.

A bath did sound pleasant. She had not bathed since yesterday morning and knew she smelled of the dyes.

“Please, sister,” Shay said. “You smell worse than manure.”

They laughed.

“One moment.” Elva spoke and took Kaireen’s arm. Her handmaid escorted her away from Shay’s hearing. “Do not undo my work.”

“Your work? You mean your ramblings?” She hugged her arms across her stomach. “What happens when this does not come to be?”

“Mark my words, if you throw doubt at Shay, she will die.” Her eyes bored into Kaireen. “The giant will come, and you will see for yourself. For now, trust that my words have healed her, some.”

Feoras combed his sandy hair back with his hand. The witch woman’s herbs had not killed his father, but she swore on her screams he would be weakened to the point of death.

Feoras fingered the pearls on his father’s sword hilt. Waited ages for this night. Years of planning, pretending, and now he would have it all.

Everything he wanted rested with this sword. Until tonight, he would conceal the sword’s presence when he returned with it after meeting the Liannon spy. A sliver of the moon cast shadows across the floor.

After supper he added the witch woman’s sleeping powder to the wine jug the guards drank from. With a full stomach of food, the potion would take two hours to take effect, she had said. Plenty of time for them to be stationed at their post and fast asleep. The guards’ sleep would last until dawn.

Enough time to kill and avoid suspicion. The figure in the bed moaned in sleep.

Opened window shutters invited in the night air. Silk drapes around the bed billowed.

The stone floor cooled his feet. Anger built within him, boiled his blood. He adjusted his black linen cloak. How he had dreamed of this, harbored the image of his father’s death for so long.

Drawing the sword from the scabbard, his victim’s sword, shivers raced down his back. When Rhiannon sent word of it in her possession, his heart had leapt with joy. He would avenge the only woman who had ever touched his heart. He did not see what grew there from her bitter touch.

His mother.

Damn his father for ripping their family apart. Feoras brought the tip of the sword’s blade to his lips and then kissed the metal. He could taste the blood of revenge and the wealth of the spoil to come.

Soon, he would bring her back home. His eyes misted over, imagining Rhiannon back home where she belonged.

Feoras smiled.

His brother, Bearach, would demand justice for this—his father’s death. And justice would be taken from the Liannon clan and Kaireen’s fair hide.

To avoid distrust, he would allow his brother a brief rule.

In the distance, an owl hooted and Feoras trembled with excitement. But all the better if Bearach died in battle with the Liannons. Have a hero’s burial and the clan would look to their new laird, Feoras.

He would bring Rhiannon back to the clan, home. Together they would rule both the O’Neill and Liannon lands.

Feoras raised the sword and stalked closer to the bed. His hand trembled as he drew the curtain back from the bed post.

Clouds shifted away from the moon, lighting the room, like the heavens showed the way.

Feoras snarled and drove the sword through the body.

A gasp escaped from the victim. Feeble, wrinkled hands gripped his arms. Recognition of his killer flared in his eyes. Choking on blood, his father struggled to speak, struggled to breathe.

Feoras might end his life sooner. But the pleasure of seeing his father’s pain thrilled him deeper than he imagined.

In his father’s dying eyes, Feoras saw his reflection. Power surged through him as life seeped from his father.

How he longed to prolong this man’s suffering. Watch his beating heart strain to continue. He left the sword in the body, proof of the Liannon clan’s guilt.

Ancient Greek custom called to inhale the last breath of a dying person then you absorb their power, their prestige…like a blessing.

Feoras saw the light fading from the old man’s eyes. So he covered his father’s mouth with his. He inhaled, drawing in the last breath. Holding his father’s breath, he believed the gesture empowered him. His fingers tingled. His father’s blood dripped from his mouth.

This, he received as a blessing from death, of his succession in the clan. Feoras would rule, as his mother promised him.

The first step was completed. His father was dead.

Eventually, he would rule all of Ireland. First would be to break the Liannon clan under his will. Feoras yanked the black hood back and then crept from the room.

A leer froze on his face and he mused if anyone saw his expression, they would run the other way. In his hand he held a torn piece of cloth he stole from the Lochlann the day of the battle they fought for that girl. He left it wedged in the door to his father’s chamber.

Stepping over the sleeping guards, he snuck back into his chambers.

Inside, he undressed. He wiped his mouth and tossed the blood stained cloak into the hearth. The fabric caught on the flames and then crinkled into ash. He removed each garment he wore and threw them one at a time into the flames until he stood naked before the hearth.

All was well. His father was dead. And he was reborn.